Bursting the Bubble
by cranesandcranesandcranes
Summary: Dolph Ziggler finds himself inexplicably drawn to the newest and perhaps strangest member of the Diva roster, the quirky, aloof and awkward Emma. She lives in her own world; it seems like a weird and wonderful place that Dolph wouldn't mind visiting, but first he has to stop her talking about herself for long enough to ask her. Dolph/Emma two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Couldn't sleep and this short, silly little idea came to me. Could be a one-shot, could have a few chapters more depending on the feedback I get. Set during this week's Raw (2/17/2014) Please read and review :)**

He didn't know why he liked her so much. Well, she was stunningly beautiful and a tremendous athlete, but the same went for every woman in this line of work. So why, of all the fine specimens that populated the Divas locker room, was she the only one he could not get out of his head? He supposed the uncertainty was a big part of the attraction. He had everyone else around the place figured out. Some were painfully transparent, others were mysteries that took longer to unravel, but he always got there eventually. But it had been a month now since she showed up on the main roster, and Emma remained as frustratingly enigmatic to him as ever.

She lived in her own universe of which she was not only the centre, but seemingly the sole component. That was hardly uncommon in the WWE, but this wasn't conventional egomania, if it was he would have no desire to delve any further. It was stranger than that, a form of escapism perhaps, and comfort. A world she could feel in control of to distract her from the daunting scenario of being a small cog in the workings of this enormous sports-entertainment juggernaut. If all she needed to be happy was to dance, to wave her signs and to flash that adorably awkward smile, then it didn't matter what happened around her, what people thought of her, whether she had friends. He'd presumed that would be his way in, but now it appeared someone had beaten him to the punch. Someone equally enveloped in his own zany, bizarre little realm. And it appeared Planet Emma and Planet Santino were perfectly aligned, if this evening's events in the ring were anything to go by.

If not for a timely intervention, Emma and Santino would have kissed there and then live on television. But they didn't, and they both seemed rather embarrassed (as embarrassed as two people with such an apparent lack of self-awareness could be) at getting caught up in the moment like that. Maybe there was still a chance. Whether she was for the taking or not, he still had a million questions he would very much like to have answered by this aloof young Australian.

"Do you have nothing better to do than lurk outside the Divas locker room?" a stern, probing female voice awoke Dolph from his deep state of contemplation.

"Nattie... I... no... I was... just... _waiting_. Waiting and thinking," he stammered, being forced to respond before he could order a credible excuse.

"Sounds like lurking to me," Natalya smirked, unimpressed if slightly amused. As he finally composed himself, Dolph realised he may have found just the person to talk to. He'd become a regular viewer of NXT as of late, for reasons not entirely unrelated to his would-be crush. Natalya had teamed up with and faced off against Emma on numerous occasions down in Florida, surely she must have had a clearer idea than most what was going on inside that pretty little head.

"Nattie, what do you know about Emma?" he enquired without hesitation. The Canadian Diva gave a wry smile of realisation and threw her head back.

"Ah, I see..." she grinned in a tone that managed to be both warm and somewhat condescending.

"...well, she's very talented, she's from Australia, but she trained in Calgary, like all the best wrestlers in the world..."

"No, I meant, as a person..." he sighed frustratedly.

"...that's why I consulted a human being and not a press release. You must have spent plenty of time with her, what's she really like? All that goofy dancing, blowing bubbles... does she ever stop that? Does she ever talk about anything... normal?"

"You asked me what I know about her. And that's all you can know about someone like Emma; the bare facts..." Natalya replied plainly.

"...she must have plenty going on up there, you don't get to be that good in the ring if you don't, but I'll be damned if I know what makes her tick. She's quite the one-off; 'eccentric' to put it politely, 'crazy' if you wanna be harsh. Then again, on past evidence that's no bad thing in your book."

Dolph winced. Natalya may have been right though, he clearly had a weakness for the more unconventional woman. But he liked to think, based on his limited experience of Emma, that nothing akin to AJ's chaotic web of manic insecurity, vengeful fury and callous manipulation lay beneath her surface. If she was a little off her rocker, she was what he liked to call the 'good' kind of crazy. But then, he'd thought AJ was too to begin with.

"So, if I were to ask her out..." he began.

"...You'd be a very brave man," Natalya finished with another grin.

"But seriously, go for it. One thing's for certain, she means no harm. She has a positive attitude, which is more that can be said for _some_ of the girls around here, she might just need the right guy to take the time to get to know the real her. Tyson thought I was something of a weirdo before he got to know me properly."

"I have no trouble whatsoever believing that..." Dolph quipped, to which Natalya gave a playful frown.

"...So, is she in there right now? Could you go get her for me?"

"Sure. Wait one moment. And good luck."

Natalya disappeared through the locker room door. Dolph braced himself. He'd never panicked over what to say in these situations before. He didn't get the reputation he had through being coy and hesitant when it came to the ladies. But this lady in particular... none of the usual rules seemed to apply when it came to her. This was like being fourteen all over again.

After about a minute of waiting, out she came, handbag slung around her shoulder, dressed in the white 'Emmalution' T-shirt and black yoga pants she had worn out to the ring earlier. During the course of the match, Dolph had come to the conclusion that Emma should never wear anything other than yoga pants. She cocked her head and eyed him with wonderment. He realised that this was the point in normal human interaction where it would be appropriate to introduce himself. But then, surely she already knew who he was?

"Hi, I'm Dolph Zig..."

"Yeah, I know."

Well, that answered that one.

"I just wondered if, since you're new here and all, if you wanted to..." he began.

"Do you want me to help you out with some new moves for your entrance? Cos that thing _seriously_ needs work," she giggled, evidently not paying any attention whatsoever to the fact he was in mid-sentence. That would be gratingly rude coming from anyone else, but somehow he was more than willing to forgive it coming from her. Maybe it was the accent.

"Umm, no, see I was wondering if maybe we could..."

"You've not been winning much lately, have you? Maybe I can teach you a few things. Have you been watching NXT? Of course you have. Well, you'll know I'm kind of unbeatable at the moment," she interjected blithely once again.

If this were almost literally anyone other person, Dolph would now be screaming at them for their impertinence and arrogance. Not to mention the fact his recent poor fortunes in the ring were something of a sore point. And the very idea a rookie Diva could teach him anything worthwhile between the ropes should have had his male pride seething. But instead, he was enjoying the challenge of trying to break through her forcefield of self-absorption.

"It's just a blip, I've been unlucky, but anyway..."

"Have you got one of my business cards yet?" Emma questioned enthusiastically

"Business cards?" he repeated, astounded. He'd never had cause to issue a business card in his entire career.

Emma rummaged in her bag, producing both one of the aforementioned cards and a pen, with which she began scrawling on the back of it. Dolph squinted and gaped open-mouthed. Was she seriously giving him her autograph? Maybe she was nothing more than a rampant egomaniac after all.

"Here!" she finally chirped, offering the card to him with a broad beam that instantly made him willing to forgive her arrogance. Conceitedness had never been so cute.

He studied the card; a logo consisting of the word 'Emmalution' in stylised text and silhouettes of her signature dance poses, with her Twitter handle along the bottom. He flipped it over to see what on Earth she had written on the other side:

_'I'm guessing you're trying to ask me out. I'm very flattered, and the answer is yes. Meet me in the hotel lobby at 10.'_

Well, good, he supposed. Quite why she couldn't just say so, he had no idea. But maybe this led him closer to deciphering the Emma enigma. Maybe, for all her apparent brashness and lack of shame, she was extremely shy when it came to 'real talk' and used this ditzy, detached persona as a smokescreen. One thing was for certain, he was going to have a fascinating time finding out.

"So, any idea where you wanna..." he looked up from the card to find she was already halfway down the hall, doing that godawful dance as she went.

"Well?" once again, Natalya's arrival beside him snapped him out of his trance.

"You're right..." he murmured aghast, returning his gaze to Emma, determined to watch her til she danced out of sight.

"...she's nuts. Completely off the wall... and I think I just might be falling in love with her."


	2. Chapter 2

**So, I finally got around to part 2 of this. I was blown away by how positive the feedback for the first chapter was, so thank you all very much :) I'm also taking requests for oneshots; just name the pairing and the scenario and I'll see what I can do with it. I generally don't do slash and OCs, but I'll happily have a try at any het couple, femslash or non-romantic scenario using actual wrestling characters.**

"So, after an hour of the most dim-witted, asinine questions I've ever had to answer, he says: 'Thanks for stopping by, buddy. Coffee Kingsman from the WWF, everybody!' I swear he was doing it just to fuck with me. Worst interview I've ever done, hands down," Kofi ranted. Dolph did his best to appear engaged and empathetic, but in reality his mind was running wild with speculation and, if he was being honest, a fair amount of nerves, over what the next few hours would entail.

Could he keep this most easily-distracted of women entertained? Would they have any common ground whatsoever when it came down to it? Would he be able to tease out the real Emma out of her awkward, zany shell? Would she even show up? He was tired of running these questions through his head. He needed to let them out.

"Aren't you going to ask why I'm looking a little overdressed for making chitchat in the lobby?" he asked Kofi, flashing his customary cocksure grin.

"Well, I was gonna, but you do yourself up to the nines for the hell of it so often I figured you just felt like having an above average amount of girls look in your direction tonight," Kofi shrugged. Dolph chuckled. He _was _always one to dress to impress, even when he had no one in particular to wow.

"Very true. But tonight isn't about showing off for the sake of showing off, oh no. Tonight I'm putting on the style for one lucky lady in particular," he replied in the swagger-laden, bragging tone for which he was known, effectively masking (he hoped) the anxiety that said lady brought out in him.

"Ah, I see," Kofi replied in a high tone of piqued interest, raising his eyebrows.

"And who would that be? Anyone I would know?"

"I'm sure you know _of _her. But I don't think anyone here really _knows _her..." Dolph replied.

"...And that's what tonight is all about. Me being the first one to burst the bubble... and for once, that wasn't meant to sound dirty."

"Wait a second; bubble?" Kofi queried, then chortled in realisation.

"...You mean that Emma girl? Man, you really dig yourself a crazy chick, huh?"

"She's not crazy. Trust me, I would know. She's a mystery, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in... well, just look at her," Dolph smirked proudly.

"I... believe I'm looking at her... right now," Kofi murmured distractedly, eyes almost bulging out of his sockets as he gazed across the room. He slowly moved his hand to Dolph's shoulder to point him in the direction of what had him so transfixed.

Kofi's loss of composure was wholly justified. There she was, proceeding gingerly across the room, wearing a knee-length navy blue dress that she could not possibly have done a better job of filling. It was a testament to how good she looked that her complete inability to maintain her balance in heels didn't at all detract from the spectacle.

"Hi," she said with a grin that was equal parts nervousness and excitement. She extended her hand to Dolph before quickly withdrawing it.

"...Sorry... a bit unnecessary when we've already been..." she murmured, pushing her straight blond hair wildly about her face.

"You can shake _my_ hand if you like," Kofi offered with a smirk. Dolph scowled at him; she was clearly extremely ill at ease and casual mocking of her would only make it worse.

"Oh... are you coming too, Kofi?" she questioned in a somewhat crestfallen tone.

"...It's just that Dolph made it sound like..."

"It _is_ a date..." Dolph asserted.

"...Kofi's going to scurry off back to his hotel room to play his video games and call his wife now. _Aren't you, Kofi?_" he fixed his friend with a meaningful look.

"You mean you crazy kids don't need a chaperone?" Kofi quipped with an indulgent smile.

"You're a year younger than me!" Dolph snapped in retort.

"Well, good luck then, you ol' cradlesnatcher, you. Don't alienate her with references to eight-track tapes and _The Brady Bunch,_" said Kofi, clapping Dolph on the shoulder as he made his way back across the lobby.

Now Dolph was finally able to focus solely on the glorious apparition he would have the pleasure of squiring this evening. She really was most uniquely beautiful, her mesmerising pale blue eyes resting on him in anticipation. Gorgeous, talented and utterly beguiling; he hoped to high heaven that he sufficiently impressed her tonight.

"So, you hungry?" he began somewhat clumsily.

"Absolutely starving," she replied.

"Well, Denver is our oyster, my dear..." he proclaimed.

"...What's it gonna be? Chinese?"

"Had it last night."

"Italian?"

"Had pasta at lunch."

"Thai?"

"Gives me gas like you wouldn't believe..." she lamented.

"You realise you just said that out loud?" Dolph smiled in sympathetic amusement. She shrugged.

"...Anyway, I get the impression that an actual restaurant might be something of an ordeal for you."

"Well, we're a bit overdressed for Burger King," she said with a nervous laugh.

"Says who?" he fired back.

* * *

It was 11.30PM and Dolph Ziggler had spent the past hour and a half sat in a Burger King in downtown Denver, dressed in a full suit, with baffled onlookers gawping in his direction every few seconds, while a woman with no apparent off-switch or self-censorship rambled on ceaselessly about herself, only stopping to take bites of her burger and deposit a copious amount of mayonnaise down her front in the process. And he couldn't have been happier.

He could listen to her talk all day. Her impulsiveness and total lack of shame were liberating. He was happy to let her dominate the conversation and embark on her various flights of fancy. But he was still no closer to working her out. She'd not made a single gesture or said a single word to intimate she was remotely interested in him specifically, or whether he was impressing her or not. Maybe she really was just too detached from the conventions of human socialisation to make any headway with.

But still, he felt there was something behind it all. She'd never once mentioned her life before WWE or her friends and family back home. She'd managed to segue any attempt to stear her onto the subject into yet another tale of her NXT successes. Something had to have made her this way.

His time to find out had now expired. They were on the corridor on which their rooms were situated, about to go their separate ways.

"So, you had a good time, right?" Dolph queried with uncharacteristic angst. His usual repertoire of blatant flirtation that always gave him a clear idea of whether or not he was onto a winner had not worked at all with her. She seemed completely oblivious to it all.

"Yeah, of course..." she replied cheerily.

"...at the end of the day you can't beat a good burger. Sorry I got your crotch all sticky."

"What?!"

"When I spilled my Coke on you."

"Oh right, right..." Dolph laughed. Emma seemed entirely unaware of any double entendre. Just as she had seemed unaware that performing a frenetic arm pantomime above a table full of drinks usually ended in tears.

"...but I mean with me. Was I a good date?"

"Sure," she concluded after a brief period of concentration, giving a somewhat nonchalant raise of her eyebrows.

"Well... um... good," Dolph stuttered hesitantly. What on Earth was happening? He was the Show-Off, stealer of a million girlfriends. He should have been sealing this deal. But how did one breach such elaborately-crafted defences? How did one play it smooth with a girl who was anything but? Her awkwardness was contagious.

"So... goodnight and I'll see you tomorrow, I guess," he concluded.

"Yeah, probably," she said flatly. Was it too much to ask for a little positive reinforcement?

He leant in to kiss her, at the same time as she went in for a hug. Their heads met painfully somewhere in the middle. They mumbled apologies and decided to leave it at a chaste peck on one another's cheeks.

Dolph entered his room, threw himself back first onto the bed and questioned aloud:

"What the fuck just happened?"

* * *

An hour had passed. Dolph had finally resigned himself to the fact that maybe some mysteries were meant to go unsolved and that he should let Emma go on her merry, mad little way. After all, it was getting caught up in girl drama that had first sent his in-ring fortunes on their downward spiral that continued to this day.

Then all of a sudden, his phone pulsated into life, grinding ear-splittingly against the bedside table. Probably Kofi with a barrage of intrusive questions. He was in no mood for that whatsoever and he was about to tell the Ghanaian as much. Lying on his back, he blindly swiped the phone from the table without checking the caller ID and held it to his ear.

"Ugh... hello?" he growled. There was a substantial pause. Then a soft, timid, Australian voice filled his ear.

"Dolph? I-it's me, Emma," instantly Dolph's fury dissipated; replaced with hope and intrigue. He could never be angry at that voice. He'd forgotten that he'd somehow managed to successfully give her his number. But what did she want?

"Hey, what's up?" he asked drowsily, propping himself up against the headboard.

"I was just ringing to apologise," Emma breathed ruefully.

"Apologise for what?"

"For tonight. You're a great guy. You're sweet and kind and gorgeous, and I just fucked you around with my usual self-absorbed rambling nonsense. You deserved better."

"Well, first of all; thank you very much for the compliments. Nothing I didn't already know, but it's always nice to hear. Second; your rambling is adorable and I very much enjoyed it being directed at me," Dolph replied, his insides swelling with joy at finally being able to engage with her on an emotional level.

"That's something at least, then..." Emma sighed, a smile evident in her voice.

"...But that's not me. Well, it is me, it's just... I'm not very good with people, I kinda... And when I meet a guy I like it's even worse... I just don't want you thinking I'm... y'know... Oh God, this is a disaster, I shouldn't have called."

Dolph shook his head in fond disbelief as she continued to breathlessly rifle through incomplete sentence after incomplete sentence. The mystery was beginning to unravel, the bubble was beginning to burst.

"It's OK, I understand entirely..." he said calmly.

"...This Emmalution stuff is all a front. You're scared that if people get to know the real you they won't like what they see. You think the truth can't possibly be as interesting as this crazy, wacky persona you've crafted for yourself."

"You must think I'm the saddest, fakest fucking loser around," Emma stated darkly. Dolph prepared to tell her how very, very wrong she was.

"You know who else hides behind a larger-than-life facade?" he questioned rhetorically.

"...Me. Dolph Ziggler. Sure, I like showing off, I like prancing and preening for the cameras, but when it's all said and done I like to go home and bury my head in a politics journal, maybe brush up on my sign language, try out my lame comedy in front of my bathroom mirror, I'm a total fucking dork when it comes down to it."

She laughed. God she had a beautiful laugh.

"So it doesn't disappoint you that behind it all there's just a shy girl from Melbourne who likes baking and has a completely unironic love of Miley Cyrus?" she questioned pensively.

"I'll have to explain to you at length why Britney is infinitely better, but no, it doesn't bother me..." Dolph chuckled.

"...So, what would the shy girl from Melbourne say to take 2 of our date at breakfast tomorrow morning? Maybe 9.30? Maybe Waffle House?"

"I think she'd like that very much."

"Well, I guess I'll be seeing her tomorrow then."

"You will."

"Goodnight, my dear."

"Goodnight."

Mystery solved. He couldn't wait to meet the real Emma in the morning.

**The End.**


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